Pride and Good Days
by Spideog
Summary: PEN NAME CHANGED FROM LITTLE MISS FOX. Two short one shots. Much thinks about his Master's good and bad sides and of course about his pride.


**As you probably noticed I changed my pen name but I'm still me :) **If you read Bitter Enemies you will know I wanted a different pen name but of course FF decided it was taken even though it wasn't :( Oh well, it's cool and it means Robin.  
**These are two old one-shots, not really great or anything special but I said I may as well put them here, no point lying around with no one to read them.**  
**Disclaimer: I wish!**

**Enjoy**

**Good Days**  
Honestly, it was not a squirrel.  
These people lived in the woods and they couldn't tell what was and what wasn't a squirrel. Besides, Much had tasted squirrel before and squirrel did not taste like this.

Allen and Robin were sparring. Much had no urges to join, why waste precious energy?  
Allen was putting up a good fight, his pride helping immensely in this occasion but Robin easily kept him at an arms length. Robin, wasn't the tallest nor the biggest but he was the better fighter.  
Years in the Holy Land did that to you.  
Allen believed that Robin was fighting full, an untrained eye would, but Much knew better. He rarely saw him fight full on any more, not even during fights with the Nottingham guards.  
When Robin lost it with Guy all of the gang were slightly terrified. But Much was scared for different reasons. Robin's good charateristics usually outshone his bad. Either the gang didn't see him underneath those layers or they just didn't want to admit it.  
Much knew it was there, and he was scarred of it. Robin had nightmares of the Holy Land just like he did. They both dreamed not only of the Saracens but both also dreaded the way Robin fought.  
Some days, Much thought the faces of the dead Saracens would less terrifying than his masters, they were nearly less cold.  
Much was terrified of his master when he was like that. Not caring about how much pain he caused. Almost getting a kick from it.  
Then on other days each time he hit another his face reacted as though he were hit himself. As much as it pained Much to see his master in pain, he preferred those days. During those days, Robin was normal and Much was happy, as happy as you could be in the midst of war.  
Robin would tease him of the food he ate and they would sit in the King's company with the King smiling favourably down at Robin.  
Good days.

Allen fell onto his back. Robin laughed but helped him up at the same time removing a few leaves from his hair.  
His master's eyes shone lightly.  
Today was his good day. Today was Much's good day, Much liked good days.

**Pride**  
Pride. His master had a lot of it, not to mention a big ego. Since Much first knew him as a young boy he knew he had pride. Pride in his family and the lands of Locksley. Pride was defined as "the love of ones own excellence." Robin was certainly that, he knew he was gifted with a bow and arrow, knew he was blessed with the good looks he received from both his parents. From a young age his Master was the definition of pride. Pride was derived from French meaning brave, valiant. His master was also that too. It was his bravery that made him the legend he is today.  
Pride however often got the better of Robin, so much so that it nearly killed him. He was in the midst of war, was attacked by a Saracen but it was his pride that killed him.

The wound was bad, yes, but Robin was strong and healthy, he would live. All he needed was rest but the physician seemed to forget who he was talking to.  
The next day though his wound was grievous he put on his armour and mounted his horse to perform sentry duty. The physician was to busy dealing with other casualties to notice and none of the others knew how bad the injury really was. Much begged and pleaded for him to stay in the confines of his tent and rest but Robin's pride would not allow this and who was he to stop his master? Even if the master was foolish and reckless.  
His master had almost completed his two hour shift when his body had finally taken enough and shut down. Much could only watch in horror as Robin slumped and fell from his horse.

The days that followed were the worst days of Much's life. Robin was not most effected by his wound but the fact that the king had gone on and given orders for him to go home. _Stupid pride_ thought Much.

It was his masters pride that got him here, under Nottingham castle locked in a jail cell. His master's pride also meant that he showed no fear.  
Much looked over at Robin who was deep in concentration, then his face relaxed and his eyes brightened. He knew that look, he had a plan, Much hated his plans. He knew though that Robin would get them both out, save the day, he always did.

Just like in the Holy Land where his pride got him in trouble his other qualities helped fix the mistakes that his pride made. One day pride would get the better of him but not today, like most other days he would now bounce back like a rubber ball, to fast to stop him.

"Right, this is the plan…." Much listened to him obediently, as he always did. He felt nervous but deep down he knew he would be fine. His master had many good qualities that would help him. Pride was not one of them. Much did not like pride and he certainly did not like his master's pride.

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**Love it, hate it? Tell me what you think.**


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